


Not a bad influence at all

by bellfort3



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, sbi - Fandom, sleeping bois inc
Genre: DreamSMP - Freeform, Fluff, Other, Rated general audiences for drunk!wilbur, Techno is Mentioned, Tommy is tired, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, mcyt - Freeform, phil is mentioned, sbi, sleepy bois inc - Freeform, they love each other like family, tommy and wilbur - Freeform, wilbur and tommy, wilbur calls tommy drunk, wilbur is drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28172178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellfort3/pseuds/bellfort3
Summary: It's late and Tommy wants to go to bed after a particularly exhausting stream. But just when he is about to crawl into bed, Wilbur calls him, very drunk and just wanting to praise his little brother for how proud of him he is.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), platonic - Relationship, they are Family - Relationship, they are brothers - Relationship
Comments: 37
Kudos: 1037





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a Quackity stream where Wilbur was drunk and acting all sweet and sentimental. I couldn't help but think to myself 'that's cool, but what about Tommy?' So, here we are! Nothing bad happens, this is purely fluff. 
> 
> /TW/ for drunk!Wilbur

Tommy didn’t know why Wilbur was calling him. 

It was just after 11 pm and Tommy had ended his stream about 30 minutes prior. The teen now sat curled up in his gaming chair, knees pulled up this chest and chin resting on them as he worked on organizing his stream files before logging off for the night. The stream had left him feeling drained, more so than it usually did. Most of the time, he was able to end stream with just enough energy left in the tank to get some last-minute homework done before going to bed. But for whatever reason, today’s stream had just left him fucking exhausted. As soon as he finished his stream labs he was going straight to bed, homework be damned. 

Tommy rubbed his eyes, suppressing a yawn. The bright screen was blurring before his eyes, all the words and colors mushing into one. He glanced up at the time, now 11:46 pm, and sighed in defeat. Tomorrow was Saturday, so he deemed it safe enough to push the rest of his work aside to be done later. 

Tommy powered down his monitors before pushing back from his desk. He unfurled from his chair, knees and back groaning in protest as he stood and stretched. His body ached, something like soreness settling deep within his muscles. He faintly wondered if this was how athletes felt on the daily before chalking it up to sitting with his shitty posture for nearly three hours straight. 

Tossing his phone onto his bed, Tommy hobbled over to his closet and started searching through it for some pajamas. He pulled down an old t-shirt and a pair of striped pajama bottoms and carried them with him into the bathroom so he could brush his teeth and wash his face. He came back less than five minutes later to see his phone vibrating on his bed. 

Tommy gingerly picked it up, glancing down at the Caller ID.

**Wilbur Soot is calling…**

Tommy didn’t know why Wilbur was calling him. 

It was almost 12 pm now, and Wilbur Soot was calling him. Not only was he calling him, but he was calling him using his  _ phone number, _ not on Discord. If it were any other night and any other circumstance, Tommy would have taken a moment to seriously consider declining it and sending him a text explaining that he was tired and going to bed. But no, Wilbur Soot was calling him using his  _ phone number,  _ something Tommy hadn’t even been sure he had saved! 

So, it was safe to say that Tommy did not hesitate to accept the call. 

Tommy wasn’t even given the chance to breathe before Wilbur started speaking. 

“Tommy! Toms, my Toms, what’s going on?” 

Tommy was taken aback. Wilbur sounded...strange. His voice was high-pitched and unsteady, his words slurring together and bumping into each other like bumper cars. Tommy instantly knew that Wilbur was drunk. Even though he had yet to talk to an intoxicated Wilbur, he had heard the many stories of him. The one where he called Philza ‘daddy’ particularly haunted him. 

“Uh, hi, Wilbur?” It came out more as a question than a statement. Tommy chuckled awkwardly, not really sure how to proceed. On the one hand, he knew Wilbur was an adult, a very mature and sophisticated adult at that, and would probably be very embarrassed to find that he had called Tommy whilst drunk whenever he sobered up. Tommy should do him a favor and just hang up, right? But then again, Wilbur was  _ drunk _ . He was slurring his words and probably saying whatever came to mind. Tommy may never get to witness this again. Who was Tommy to deny himself that opportunity?

“Awww, Tommy!” Wilbur gushed. Tommy wrinkled his nose in confusion. Why was Wilbur ‘awwing’ him? “Tommy, I was watching your streeaaam.”

“Oh,” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Okay…”

“Aw.”  _ There he goes again.  _ “Tommy, don’t you want to know what I thought of it? Don’t you want to know what your  _ idol _ thought of it?”

Tommy’s face started to burn immediately. He cringed, taking a deep, steadying breath to resist the urge to hang up right then and there. Usually, he could play off the ‘You’re a child and I’m your idol’ card pretty easily. It was nice that he could always turn around and flaunt his stats if he wanted to, even though he never did. He knew it was a bit, a little something to put him back in his place amongst the other members of the Dream SMP, but it still rubbed him the wrong way, especially when it came from Wilbur for some reason. 

“Wilbur,” Tommy said slowly, a warning tone to his voice. “You are hardly my idol right now.”

Wilbur hummed, apparently not fazed by the dramatic change in attitude from the teen. “Oh, I’m sorry, I meant  _ big brother.  _ That’s the bit, isn’t it? Phil’s the dad, Techno and I are twins, and you’re the baby! Little baby boy. Baby man. Gremlin child.” 

Tommy spluttered. Wilbur clearly wasn’t thinking straight if he meant to say big brother but had said idol instead. To an only child such as himself, those were two very contrasting terms. 

“I am  _ not _ a baby. I am a big man,” Tommy declared. 

“Aww, Tommy,” Wilbur sounded absolutely gone. He laughed deliriously down the phone mic. “Stop denying it. You’re totally my baby brother.”

Tommy’s head was spinning from both exhaustion and confusion. He lowered himself down on the bed. “Go on,” he mumbled, leaning back against his headboard and letting his eyes flutter closed. 

Wilbur was already going. “It-it feels like my responsibility to look after you and make sure you don’t get yourself into any trouble. Sure, it was annoying at first, but everyone finds their little brother annoying at times! Now, it’s not even a chore. I love talking to you, man. I love hearing about your day, your ideas, your  _ life. _ It makes me wish I were there. Fuck, Tommy, I wish I were there to watch you grow up. I wish I had been there sooner and I wish I could physically be there.” Wilbur rambled, words barely coherent as Tommy listened intently. 

“I love you, man, and I am so so  _ so _ proud of you.”

Something melted inside of Tommy. He relaxed, slumping against the headboard and sliding down the pillows. At the sound of those words, Tommy went all warm and gooey inside. He  _ knew _ Wilbur was proud of him. Wilbur made a point to say it enough when he was sober. But there was just something so  _ raw _ and  _ intimate _ about hearing him saying it drunk. Maybe it was the fact that there was no filter, that it clear that he meant every word he said, that he wasn’t picking and choosing how to phrase it. He had told Tommy he loved him, that he was proud of him. Tommy couldn’t ask for anything more. He didn’t want anything more.

“Tommy, Phil is calling me. Tommy, Phil is gonna yell at me, oh no,” the conversation had taken a drastic turn and Tommy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. 

“Don’t laugh! He’s gonna use his ‘disappointed voice’ and nooo.”

“Suck it up, Wilbur,” Tommy rolled his tired eyes. “Go talk to Phil and tell him how much of a bad influence you are on me, calling me all drunk and shit.”

Wilbur huffed and didn’t say anything more as he abruptly hung up. 

Tommy smiled to himself as he placed his phone on his nightstand and turned to face the wall. He curled up in a tight ball, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging himself as he once again closed his eyes. As he drifted to sleep, he couldn’t help but think that Wilbur was not a bad influence on him at all. 

Not at all. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, Wilbur wakes up with both a killer hangover and the realization that he had called Tommy last night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have written this because someone was curious about Wilbur's reaction to calling Tommy drunk the next morning...
> 
> /TW/ for hungover!Wilbur and mentions of vomiting
> 
> Also, this is written by someone who has never been drunk or hungover first hand, but let's just ignore that.

It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer right to Wilbur’s skull. Repeatedly. 

The brunette stifled a groan as he rolled over onto his back. He was slick with sweat, his rumpled sheets sticking to the exposed skin on his arms and legs. His body felt strangely heavy as well, as if the alcohol lingering in his system was physically weighing him down. Usually, he found comfort in the feeling, letting the weight lull him to sleep, but now he just felt gross and so very hungover. 

His vision swam when he cracked his eyes open, the light fixture positioned above his head swaying as if he were on a boat. The sensation made him nauseous and he barely had time to lean over the side of his bed and grab the trash can before his stomach lurched. He squeezed his eyes shut once more as he heaved and emptied all of the contents of last night’s dinner into the bin. 

God, Wilbur hated vomiting. It was probably one of the most unpleasant experiences. That’s why he always made an effort to stop drinking before he reached this point. Drinking was something he did to relax, to unwind after a long week in front of the camera. He had left his days of drinking to blackout and forget a long time ago, or so he thought. 

Once he was finished, Wilbur set aside the spoiled bin and started looking around for his phone. He felt around the mattress, lifting the covers and the blankets. He didn’t find his phone, but he did find  _ HOME HOME _ tucked into one of his pillowcases. He sighed, almost in defeat, and dropped the sign off the other side of his bed. 

Had he thrown a party last night? He couldn’t remember anything after popping open his second bottle of wine, and he had been alone up until that point. He wouldn’t have been surprised, maybe disappointed in himself but definitely not surprised. Wilbur had done some pretty weird things while drunk, some of which consisted of calling Phil ‘daddy’ (that was probably the worst) and getting hypnotized back when he was 20. Inviting some people over for a glass, or four, of wine, would be pretty low on that tier list, even if he had originally planned on drinking alone. He couldn't imagine having a party and then waking up all by himself in his house though, which seemed to be the case. 

Wilbur steeled himself before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up in one smooth motion. He should’ve realized that this was a bad idea, but too late was he stumbling forward and collapsing in a heap on the ground. 

“Fuck…”

Wilbur would have laughed at the hilarity of a fully grown man being so hungover he was practically still drunk if his head wasn’t pounding so goddamn hard. 

It was times like these when the man questioned all of his life choices. 

With a grunt, Wilbur dragged himself to his feet, swaying slightly and leaning on his desk chair for support. It was there, with his forehead resting on the cool material of the chair, that he saw his phone light up out of the corner of his eye. His shattered iPhone 8 lay underneath a styrofoam box (what he assumed his dinner had come in last night) and a bunch of papers and greasy napkins. 

Wilbur resigned himself. He gracelessly plopped himself down in the chair, reaching forward and weakly swatting all the garbage away so that he could pick up his phone. Once he did, he brought the device up to his face, wincing when the bright light seared his already pulsating eyes. He swiped away his hundreds upon hundreds of notifications, really only needed his phone to check the time and his phone call history. 

The time read 12:22 am  _ (not bad) _ as Wilbur swiped over to his call app. He pulled up his history and glanced at the top. He sighed in relief when he only saw three phone calls from the previous night, the first one from Quackity, the second from Tommy, and the third, not surprisingly, from Phil.

Wilbur sighed in relief, ready to put his phone away and start cleaning himself up when his brain finally registered what his eyes had just read. 

_TommyInnit_ Yesterday

phone 11:54 pm

Wilbur reacted quicker than he should have, given how hungover he was. He clicked on Tommy’s contact and listened to it ring as he waiting for the teen to pick up. The entire time, his thoughts were a constant string of  _ what the fuck what the fuck did I do what the fuck. _

Tommy answered on the third ring, a little late for him to be honest. “Wilbur! What’s up, Big Man?”

Wilbur cringed at how loud his voice was, pulling the phone a ways from his ear. “Tommy,” he said tersely. “I called you last night.”

Tommy hummed. “That you did.”

“And I was drunk, correct?”

“Very.”

Wilbur slumped down in his chair, wanting to disappear. “What the fuck did I say to you, Tommy?” He spat.

Tommy laughed, as high pitched and obnoxious as always. Wilbur found himself appreciating it at that moment. Maybe drunk!Wilbur had been funny and amusing to Tommy. Maybe drunk!Wilbur had been lucid enough to recognize that he was talking to a literal teenager and not someone like Phil or Techno, who could understand how incapacitated he was. 

“Oh, you told me all of your deepest and darkest secrets, Wilbur. It was great,” Tommy cackled, sounding absolutely beside himself. 

Wilbur paled. Even though he could easily detect the joking tone in Tommy’s voice, it was still very possible that he  _ had _ told the teen all of his ‘deepest and darkest secrets.’

“O-oh?” Wilbur tried to play it off, but hungover!Wilbur was not very keen on composure. “Like what?”

Tommy sniggered. “You know…” Wilbur had a clear picture of the blonde sitting in his gaming chair, knees pulled up to his chest so he looked like the true gremlin child he was and his headset hanging from his neck as he spoke into the phone with a smug grin on his face. He was enjoying this-knowing something about Wilbur that Wilbur didn’t. Wilbur despised it. 

“Ha ha,” Wilbur replied dryly, the urge to put his head through a wall growing stronger with each passing second that he was on the phone with TommyInnit. “I obviously  _ don’t _ because I was  _ blackout drunk!” _

“So, Phil ended up putting you to bed. Old man Phil telling Big Dubs off? That’s something I would have loved to have been present for,” Tommy continued bemusedly. 

_ He knows that I talked to Phil.  _ Wilbur filed that away for later. “Tommy,” Wilbur’s patience was thinning. “Just tell me what I said last night.”

The teen ignored the obvious warning tone in Wilbur’s voice. “No. No, I don’t think I will. I think I will keep it as a memory just for me. If I tell you, it will ruin the sentiment. You have to understand, Wilbur.”

Wilbur, in fact, did not understand. “Dude, what the fuck did I say? Cut the bullshit.”

“Okay! Okay!” Tommy finally relented. “I’ll have you know, you didn’t say anything bad. You literally called me and just told me how much you ‘love’ me. That’s all, alright?”

Wilbur blinked. Of all the things drunk!Wilbur could have said, he said that? Did he call Tommy just to coo over him? What the fuck was this!?

“That’s all?” Wilbur echoed back at the teen. 

“Yes,” Tommy answered, sounding sure.

Wilbur let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Okay,” he said. “Thanks for telling me. Sorry that you had to deal with uh, that.”

“Pssh, no worries, Big Man! Hope your hangover isn’t as bad as it sounds! I gotta go though, I’m about to join Tubbo on stream,” Tommy shrugged it off easily, shuffling around slightly on his end of the phone. 

Wilbur nodded. “Of course, uh, can..can this stay between just us, though? I don’t need the entire world knowing I called a teenager whilst drunk.”

Tommy let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, man, don’t even have to mention it. I got you. And just so you, I really appreciated the kind words you told me last night, even if you can’t remember exactly what they are.”

Wilbur smiled to himself, glancing up at the small photo he had taped above his PC. It was a picture of him and Tommy when they had met up in Brighton a few months ago. Wilbur didn’t remember the picture being taken, but he remembered Tommy sending it to him over Discord a few days after he had gone home. He had almost immediately decided to print it and out and hang it up, right after his PC so he could see it while he streamed. It was a comfort thing, but also a motivation thing too, he supposed. 

“Okay, I really have to go now, Wilbur. Call me later if you are feeling up to it,” Tommy said and let Wilbur say bye before he hung up. 

Wilbur leaned back in his chair, the phone resting on his chest as he continued to stare up at the photo of him and Tommy. He was glad and somewhat relieved that Tommy had told him what drunk!Wilbur had said last night, but part of him still wished he remembered it himself. Not so that he could be embarrassed about it (even though he certainly still was), but so that he could reassure himself that he had meant every word he had said to Tommy. Because goddammit if Wilbur didn’t love the kid, perhaps a bit more than he probably should, and Tommy deserved to hear it every day.

With that, Wilbur resigned to call Tommy later whether or not he was feeling any better, maybe not to bombard him with more heartfelt feelings, but just to  _ talk _ to him, about his day, his ideas, his  _ life _ , and everything in between. 

Wilbur put his phone back on the desk and made his way to the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the picture I am referring to is the one that Wilbur photoshopped in Tommy's most recent stream.
> 
> Anyway, leave some love if you liked!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little one-shot! If you did leave some love <3
> 
> Tumblr: bellfort3


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